The Perfect Place
by SilverSmile
Summary: Sherlock attempts to find the perfect place to sleep, but his little experiment proves to be far more difficult than expected. light SJ.


So, in an attempt to cure my writers block in other stories and new ideas in general, I have given in and done one of these 'five things' stories.

This is just a random series of ideas, just for kicks and giggles, nothing else. So I hope that make you somewhat smile, if only at the sheer strangeness of it all.

Disclaimer - character's are not my own.

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**The Perfect Place **

**Five**.

Sherlock was woken from his light slumber by the sound of hysterical screaming. Snapping open his eyes in irritation, he found the new girl at Bart's staring at him in horror as she continued to make an annoyingly high-pitched noise.

Honestly, the girl was interrupting his latest experiment. John had recently been urging him to sleep more so Sherlock, in a bid to cure boredom and appease John at the same time, had decided to find out just where the best place for him was to sleep. He had managed to put together a mental list of five different places that could hopefully provide him with a suitable answer.

"Will you stop that?" He remarked in a falsely idle voice.

Thankfully, the girl shut up suddenly as her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed on the ground in a dead faint. Sherlock had only enough time to sit up and raise an eye-brow in distain before the door was roughly thrown open and John came into the room, body tense and alert as if there was some kind of danger to be found in the room.

"Sherlock? Is everything ok?" He asked before a surprised look crossed his face and he moved quickly over to the woman on the floor.

"Christ, what happened?" He asked in alarm, crouching down and checking her pulse.

"I have no idea what you mean. I was happily sleeping when 'that' started screaming its head off." Sherlock gestured to the 'that' still unconscious on the floor in a bored manner.

"Sleeping?" John raised his own eyebrows. "In here, of all places?"

"I've finished examining the body I knew you wanted to re-stock on some things. I thought I'd make use of the time in a constructive manner. Hence my newest experiment. You did say just this morning that I need a few hours. Though I only got half of one." He frowned.

"Newest experiment? No, wait, I don't want to know." John held up a hand as Sherlock opened his mouth to explain. "No wonder the poor woman screamed, Sherlock! You can't just lay down on a table in the morgue and have a nap." John shook his head somewhat helplessly.

"Why ever not?" Sherlock asked in honest bemusement.

"Because you'll have people thinking the dead are coming back to life."

"That's just illogical. Once someone is dead for a certain period of time, that's it." Sherlock said obviously.

"Yes, but unlike you, some people don't rely solely on logic." John tried to patiently explain.

"How stupid."

"Just promise me you won't sleep in the morgue again!" John knew when to pick his battles and trying to explain some people's over-active imaginations to Sherlock was both futile and time consuming.

"Fine. I'll no longer sleep in the morgue."

Mentally he crossed of his first idea on the list. Apparently the morgue wasn't suitable.

**Four. **

"Ouch! Are you blind as well as oblivious?" Sherlock moodily complained as he rubbed his now tender shin after it had just been kicked.

"Sherlock? What on earth are you doing on the floor?" John asked from where he'd tripped over Sherlock's shin and crashed into the side of the couch.

"I was attempting to sleep, but that's now evidently impossible." Sherlock pulled himself up and onto the couch.

"On the – why couldn't you just go to your bedroom like a normal person?" John spoke more to himself than the scoffing detective.

"I found myself feeling lethargic and so decided that sleep would be the appropriate action. Why waste time moving to another location for an action in which I'm unconscious."

John gave him an exasperated look more commonly found on Lestrade's face.

"Sherlock, just, don't sleep on the floor." John sighed loudly as he straitened up and moved towards the kitchen. "I need a cup of tea."

"I'll have a cup of tea." Sherlock called out, noting the grumbling his comment had caused.

Glancing at the floor, Sherlock decided that maybe it wasn't the most conductive place for a nap. It certainly seemed to put John in a mood. Besides, the hard, flat surface had actually been acutely uncomfortable.

He crossed the floor off his list.

**Three. **

"Sherlock!" A familiar voice hissed, rousing him from his dreamless sleep.

Opening his eyes, Sherlock noted John's face near his own, a frown marrying it. Yawning, he pushed himself up into a sitting position at the table and glanced around, seeing that apart from John, himself and the restaurant owner, it was empty.

"Sherlock!" John hissed again, face slightly flushed.

"John? What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked in mild curiosity.

"What am I – you can't just go to sleep at a table in a restaurant!" John continued to growl out between clenched teeth.

"Why ever not?" Sherlock was slightly surprised by how big of a deal John was making out of this.

"Because it's not polite." John explained.

Sherlock made sure John got the message _'and that effects me how exactly?'_ by just the look on his face before returning to his earlier question.

"How have you come to be here anyway? I thought you had a 'date' tonight." He wasn't sure why exactly, but whenever Sherlock found himself linking the word 'date' with John, it always left something of a bitter taste in his mouth.

"How many times must I tell you that Sarah and I are just friends now? We're not dating anymore! Yes, we went to dinner tonight; at least until I received a concerned phone call from the manager here, saying you were sleeping and refusing to move off so that they could close up for the night." John grouched, no longer seeming to worry if they were overheard or not.

"Hmm, it seems restaurants are a good place for me to rest, as long as people aren't trying to wake me." Sherlock commented mildly, only to quickly toss the idea aside as he saw the look on John's face.

"Not good?"

"Not good." John confirmed before sighing and shaking his head.

Well, if John said it was 'not good' then it mustn't be, Sherlock crossed restaurants off his list.

"Come on you daft prat, let's go home."

**Two. **

"Of all the stupid and ridiculous places you could – and have – chosen to have a kip, this would have to rank as the most ill advised." John shook his head as Sherlock almost sulked, annoyed at having been woken and then lectured and yelled at by numerous people.

"I don't see what the problem is, I had finished my deductions and worked out the killer. I don't see why it matters whether I have a lie down while everyone else finishes up." Sherlock honestly refused to admit that he sounded anything like a small child.

"Sherlock," John sighed a long-suffering sigh. "You have to accept that there are just some places that are not appropriate for you to have a snooze."

"Well now, that's ridiculous." Sherlock snorted disdainfully.

"Who the hell thinks _'oh, I'll just lay down on the floor with the dead corpse and have a sleep'_?" Sally finally could no longer contain herself.

"Oh." A look of understanding suddenly flickered across Sherlock's face and he glanced at the dead body on the floor and then to John.

'_The floor…' _Sherlock remembered belatedly.

"Oh, I see now why you're so upset." He stated seriously.

"You do?" Lestrade asked as the other officers looked bemused at the sociopaths' sudden understanding. John, however, looked cautiously resigned.

"I don't think he actually does." John muttered.

"No, I recall now what you previously said, John. I hadn't factored the advice into my decision." Sherlock said seriously.

"So, you understand why you shouldn't be sleeping beside dead bodies?" Lestrade confirmed.

Sherlock sent the man a look that clearly stated that he thought he was an idiot.

"I was referring to John informing me that I should not make it a custom to sleep on the floor." The detective then casually walked off, leaving exasperated and frustrated people in his wake.

"Told you he didn't actually get it." John said, just a trifle smug.

**One. **

"What the devil – Sherlock!" The consulting detective jerked upright from his slumped position at the small kitchen table, blinking and looking around in a muddled, sleep confused haze.

"What?" He asked in a rare moment of confusion.

"The beaker is frothing over!" John helpfully pointed to the beaker that was indeed overflowing with a white froth.

"Hmm, that wasn't supposed to happen." Sherlock mused thoughtfully as he used pliers to shift the beaker to the sink and unceremoniously dump it in.

"How many times do I have to ask you to be careful when you're playing around with your experiments? What would have happened if it had turned acidic and splashed on you while you slept?" John berated him.

"It was mostly harmless, John. Unless you drink it." Sherlock attempted to brush off the other man's concern.

"One day I won't be 'mostly harmless' and you'll be too busy napping to notice and you'll wind up in hospital or dead." John growled, fiddling about to make tea.

"I highly doubt that will ever happen." The poisonous look John sent him caused Sherlock to pause and change tactics.

"I shall endeavour to not fall asleep during such an experiment again."

He frowned slightly, crossing off the last idea on his list. The experiment appeared to be a complete failure! This was why he didn't sleep, there was nowhere TO sleep!

Glancing up at John again, a sudden light went off in his head as a small smile twitched at the corner of his lips.

**Plus. **

"Do I even want to know this time?" John asked blandly from the doorway.

Sherlock sleepily opened an eye before shutting it again and yawning.

"Well I decided that if you allow yourself to sleep here, it must be an equally acceptable location for myself."

The extended silence caused Sherlock to open his eyes and look over at John curiously.

"Just don't steal all the duvet." John finally sighed in an almost resigned manner. Moving over, Sherlock made room for the doctor in the soldier's bed before curling around him.

Yes, this had definitely been the best idea he'd had in a long while. His experiment was a complete success.

"Say Sherlock, what was that experiment you were going on about the other day anyway?" John asked, voice beginning to show signs of sleepiness.

"Oh, it was to determine the best place for me to sleep, as per your request for me to rest more often." Sherlock smiled softly as he looked at the side of John's face.

"This is by far the most comfortable place I've found." Sherlock dutifully reported to his friend.

But John's only response was a soft snore, having already fallen into unconsciousness. Snuggling slightly closer, it wasn't long before Sherlock peacefully followed the other man into sleep.

Fin.

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